GUS THE GROUNDHOG: SCRATCH HIM!
I'VE NEVER been hunting and don't recall ever holding a gun. I never saw my father's service revolver from his days as a Philadelphia police officer.
I'VE NEVER been hunting and don't recall ever holding a gun. I never saw my father's service revolver from his days as a Philadelphia police officer.
But despite a healthy anti-gun attitude, I find myself with an urge to shoot something for the first time in my life. Gus the Groundhog must die.
While I admire Gus' holiday rapping skills, his ability to host a mock game show and his "Keep on scratchin' " catchphrase, his immense popularity has become problematic. Everyone knows him, especially kids, and his ride as our state's most recognizable pitchman must end.
I find Gus on every channel I watch. At first, he seemed like a cuddly ad gimmick. His self- proclaimed status as our state's second-most famous groundhog seemed like a reach, but since those first cute skits, Gus has expanded his range and appeared in dozens of promotional spots.
He even has his own calendar available from the state lottery folks.
Now, despite his modesty, Gus is actually Pennsylvania's most famous groundhog, a fact I learned at our local school around Groundhog Day last year.
A teacher friend asked her kids about what happened on Groundhog Day - and all the kids raised their hands.
A few answered that Gus would give out lottery tickets. More said that Gus would see his shadow. Finally, some kids broke through Gus' propaganda machine to announce that his predecessor as most famous rodent, Punxsutawney Phil, makes a meteorological prediction in a western Pennsylvania town.
I have to hand it to Gus. He skipped weather forecasting school and lives the high-life pitching a poor-tax like no other in the history of America.
He promises riches and fame, if only we "Keep on Scratchin'. "
But, sadly, the state lottery has used him to expose the youngest Pennsylvanians to a highly addictive form of gambling that disproportionately targets those who should not be risking their paychecks on a losing bet sold to them by a lazy rodent who can't even predict the weather.
All of us realize the importance of our lottery system in helping older Pennsylvanians.
Loyal "Jeopardy!" watchers in the area usually catch the drawing before the show. A study of the state budget reveals an even greater importance, as the lottery now accounts for a net $949 million in revenue.
Last year, total lottery revenue was over $3 billion. Of that, more than half - 1.7 billion - was from instant lottery tickets.
Over the last six years, lottery proceeds have doubled. Gus has had a big part in this. Some attribute the lottery's improved success in part to his ad campaign.
His permanence lends some credence to this - but at what cost? For each dollar he gains the state in gambling revenue, his presence on TV exposes another kid to what is becoming increasingly called the "crack" of lottery gambling.
Legions of studies demonstrate the disproportionate effects of instant-lottery gambling on lower-income households. Industry talking heads and lottery commission officials dismiss these studies. A lot of regular people respond to this with the same attitude that most have about people's social ills: People make the choice to gamble.
I tend to agree with this philosophy. Like a lot of Pennsylvanians, I play the lottery. I understand that it's a choice for which I'm responsible.
But a lot of Pennsylvanians who play the lottery have gambling problems, especially those who play the instant lottery games. Gus' success has brought in more instant lottery players, more people with problems. As part of a personal view of government-sponsored gambling, I can overlook those sins when applied to adults who make their own decisions. What I can't dismiss is Gus' target audience of young Pennsylvanians, those who view him as Pennsylvania's most famous groundhog.
THE LOTTERY commission knows Gus' popularity. I bet that they have research on his "Q" score among the younger crowd and his ability to introduce them to the wonders of instant-lottery winnings.
As Pennsylvanians, we should be asking them what those scores reveal. We should know why government is sponsoring ads that help hook a new generation on instant lottery gambling.
This irresponsible ad campaign, as successful as it may be, must end.
For his part in helping to promote the sad, regressive taxation of instant lottery tickets to toddlers and elementary school students, Gus, the de facto most famous groundhog in Pennsylvania, must die.
I'll put one in him for you, Phil. *
A.J. Thomson lives in Fishtown with his wife and daughter. E-mail him